The Joshua factor : a novel by Clayton Donald D

Author:Clayton, Donald D
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Science fiction
Publisher: Austin, Tex. : Texas Monthly Press
Published: 1986-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

the more difficult to see any possible relationship between Zweig and the Cowan murder. Indeed, Reynolds could see no connection at all and, despite Fitzgerald's persistent queries for the CIA, he could see even less of a possibility of connecting Zweig's research with an imagined international Israeli intelligence operation. Indeed, were it not for the fact of Zweig's disappearance, Reynolds would have concluded that the CIA was pursuing a thread of speculation and paranoia. But Zweig did maintain that interest in the solar neutrino experiment—an interest so keen that he sometimes went to the Big Bend to check its progress. Reynolds had to acknowledge that some connection escaped him. To this Fitzgerald's constant reply was, "Right. Keep trying."

So it was one week later when Fitzgerald again telephoned Reynolds. But this time Fitzgerald had become excited about a few ideas of his own.

"Look, Dr. Reynolds," he implored, "I've got a couple of items I want to talk to you about. I'd like to show them to you."

"You might as well call me George as long as we're going to be frustrating one another," Reynolds shot back.

Fitzgerald chuckled. "And I'd like you to call me James and also to meet me if I fly to Austin tomorrow."

"OK, Jimmy," Reynolds replied a bit devilishly. "What have you got?"

"I'll show you tomorrow. I'll bring them along. I have tickets on American flight 307 arriving at 11:30 a.m. Can we meet after that?"

Reynolds sighed. "Well, I'm not much in the mood for my tennis match tomorrow anyhow. After all, what's a Sunday for? Why don't we meet at Hill's Cafe for lunch?"

"Great! Where is it?" Fitzgerald asked.

"On South Congress. Just take a taxi from the airport. It's not far. I'll show up about noon."

Hill's Cafe was a simple old-fashioned Texas steak house, well known to locals, but not much for international cuisine. The beginning of their lunch was spent in convincing Fitzgerald that he should forget about his usual food habits in favor of broiled T-bone, a baked potato, and Lone Star beer. Having passed that hurdle with some jocularity, the two found themselves increasingly drawn into the puzzle of the Zweig connection. The sharing of it almost made them begin to like one another. Well into the beer and steak, Fitzgerald changed the tone of their review a little.

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